The Ancient Llangernyw Yew: A Haunting Prophecy from Wales’ Oldest Tree

Ellen Lloyd – AncientPages.com –  When the bell begins to toll,  Lord, have mercy on the soul.’  – wrote The Venerable Bede, (672-735). In days past, when good and evil were known to be two sides of the same coin, people feared the devil…”  Watkins, Graham wrote in his “Welsh Legends and Myths”.

In the ancient village of Llangernyw, Conwy, North Wales, stands one of the world’s oldest trees. It is about 4,000-year-old, and it is still growing. This beautiful yew was planted in a small churchyard of St. Dygain’s Church sometime in the prehistoric Bronze Age.

Legend Of The Angelystor

Being the oldest tree in Wales, Llangernyw Yew is not just beautiful but also associated with an ancient legend intertwining it with a spirit prophesying death.

Locals say the Llangernyw Yew is inhabited by an ancient spirit (demon) known as Angelystor, the “Recording Angel”., and his name was so because “at the stroke of midnight each All-Hallows Eve, the demon would whisper the names of those who would pass away in the coming year.

When a new tailor named Shon Ap Robert moved into the village, he was amused to learn about the messenger of death that haunted the church. Shon was a strong, confident young fellow, full of life and always ready for some fun. “An Angelystor you call it, who can foretell the future. What nonsense. I don’t believe in spirits,” he said one evening in the tavern. (Watkins, G. Welsh Legends and Myths)

“Don’t scoff at things you don’t understand,” warned his drinking companions. As the evening passed and more ale flowed, Shon grew bolder. “I’ll prove there’s no such thing, this very Halloween, by waiting in the church until the clock strikes twelve,” said Shon. “Don’t be a fool,” replied the landlord.

“Leave the Angelystor in peace if you value your soul,” said another. “How much do you wager that I will hear no names?” challenged Shon with a swagger. “I will stake five shillings that you will hear the names and those people will be dead within the year,” said a drinker by the bar. “I accept your wager,” cried Shon.

Every day the villagers tried to dissuade the tailor from his quest. The priest warned him it was a mistake. The doctor told Shon he was a fool and the tavern keeper, frightened for the young mans sanity, tried to stop him. “A bet has been made and, as a man of principle, I am obliged to honour it,” replied the confident tailor and would not be swayed.

“October passed quickly and late on All-Hallows Eve he entered the church alone. His solitary candle flickered, casting strange dancing shadows on the walls. Shon ap Robert sat quietly on a pew, near the altar and waited. Outside, the great yew that grew in the churchyard was being buffeted by the wind. Shon held his pocket watch up to the candle. It was ten minutes to twelve.

“Slowly, the minutes ticked past. The cold church air was chilling Shon to his very marrow and he felt less confident than that convivial evening in the tavern. “Even if I hear a name, it cannot harm me,” said Shon to himself and waited nervously in the gloom.  There was a bang and the door of the church burst open. A gust of wind blew out Shon’s candle. Then the door slammed shut, leaving Shon in darkness.

Instead, he heard something shuffling across the floor. Shon wanted to jump up and flee but the church was dark as ink and he had no idea where the door was. He sat as if riveted to the pew. “Shon Ap Robert, Shon Ap Robert,” whispered a voice, close by. Shon could feel putrid breath near his face.

“Hold. Hold. I’m not ready,” cried the tailor and fumbled for a match. “Shon Ap Robert,” whispered the voice again. He struck the match. There was no one there. He was alone in the church. Shon looked at his watch. It was one minute past twelve. The people were shocked the following morning, when they saw the tailor. His hair had turned white and his face was wrinkled with age.

“Did you see the Angelystor?” asked the villagers. “I saw nothing,” replied Shon. “Tell us. Did he whisper the names,” asked the priest. “Just one,” replied Shon and wearily handed over the five shillings he had wagered. Shon Ap Robert never told the people of Llangernyw who the messenger of death had named that fearful night but, when he died within the year, they knew.

The little parish church was packed for the funeral of Shon Ap Robert and as he was laid to rest, the corpse bell was rung loudly to protect the soul of the unfortunate tailor who had so rashly dared to challenge the Angelystor.

According to Welsh mythology, each year on Halloween and 31 July, Angelystor appears in the church and announces the names of those parish members who will die within the year. Those wishing to find if their names were among the angel’s list gather beneath the church’s east window and listen very closely.

Many villagers in Llangernyw still believe in the supernatural being that has lived inside the Llangernyw Yew for thousands of years.

The church at Llangernyw is centuries old, but the site was sacred thousands of years before it was built.

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